


Please Don't Let Him Grab Your Crotch Again

by orphan_account



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, Awkward Flirting, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a reason that Thomas didn't invite any of his friends to see his newest play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Let Him Grab Your Crotch Again

Minho's phone buzzed at half past six, when he was flipping between channels, trying to find something decent to watch. He wasn't having much luck, but his phone was  _all the way on the table_. He grappled with his emotions for a moment before the paranoia kicked in. Just in case it was important. It was Newt calling him.

"Hey, man. What's up?" Minho greeted, still staring at the screen.

"You and Tommy up for a film night?" Newt asked, his voice slightly crackly from the phone.

"Can't," Minho grunted, readjusting his feet. "Thomas is out and I'm much too busy."

"I know for a fact that you are sitting on your couch in a dark room trying to decide between _America's Funniest Home Videos_ and getting up to put in a DVD you've seen a thousand times," Newt retorted.

"Actually, it's a  _Zoey 101_ rerun, smart guy."

"But where's Thomas? He hasn't been around at all lately. Almost startin' to think the bastard's avoidin' me."

"Thomas? Avoid  _you_? Never," Minho mused. "Nah, he's at one of his shows. He's been at rehearsals, that's why you haven't seen him."

"What? Why didn't he tell us that he was in a play?" Newt practically yelled. "We would've come to see it!"

"That's exactly why," Minho answered, as he observed that he should really clip his toenails tonight, while Thomas wouldn't be around to complain at him. "He gets all weirded out when people he knows sees him act. I dunno why."

"But he's invited us to his stuff before," Newt protested.

"Then why don't you ask  _him_ , for God's sake. How should I know?" Minho asked. In fact, he knew exactly why Thomas hadn't mentioned this particular production to anyone in their group of friends - besides Minho that is. He also knew that Thomas  _especially_ did not want Newt there, under any circumstances.

"But..."

"Alright, listen friend. I'll tell you this because I care about your well-being, which may be at risk if you start going into your Thomas withdrawals."

"I do not-"

"His show is at The Seaside Circle downtown. It starts at 8 o' clock. Dress fancy-casual," Minho instructed, deciding that maybe his feet were fine after all. He turned back to the television. "Thomas is the lead. Buy him flowers or something to give him after the show. Actors love that shit." Without another word, Minho hung up.

 

\+ + +

 

Acting at The Seaside Circle wasn't like a lot of the other stuff Thomas had done. The audience was situated in seats like three quarters of a ring that bordered the stage. At any given time, Thomas was walking directly past the audience to get on stage, and almost everybody could always see some angle of him.

That being said, Thomas is still very good at tuning out their existence. Or, not so much tuning out, as acknowledging that they are there but refusing to take in any part of them. And that all would have worked remarkably well for him, had the stars not aligned against him in such a way today that he peaked out through the convenient gap in the place where two curtains connected behind one section of the audience and seen Newt sitting there. Like he had the damn right to sit there. Like he was there just for Thomas. Thomas was first and foremost furious, and next he was shocked and terrified.

Newt was watching Thomas play a gay serial killer.

Aris Jones, Thomas's co-star, came up behind him gently. He gave him a  _look._ This  _look_ that made Thomas want to gouge his eyes because it was so nice and concerned. God damn Aris's looks. With that same, stupid, dumb, nice look he mouthed  _Ready_? and Thomas nodded, although he wasn't. He wasn't ready at all.

Aris nodded and pushed through the curtain. It was still only the middle of act one, on the Friday of their closing weekend, and Thomas was already ready to go home. Thomas followed him out of the curtain.

Aris turned back to look at Thomas, so that he was walking backwards as he entered. Brenda and Chuck were already onstage. "Simon, there's something about  _timing_ that you should learn," he stage-muttered.

Thomas rolled his eyes, tried very hard not to think about where Newt was sitting. Newt knew that Thomas knew. Thomas knew that Newt knew that Thomas knew. It was all incredibly anknewying. "Shut up, Doc. We've got more important things to worry about," Thomas said back. Then he did it. He fucked up. He glanced. Newt seemed to have been fucking  _waiting_ for it, because he  _grinned_ the second it happened.

"I'm getting concerned for you."

"Not now," Thomas groaned, hands sweating. Brenda stood from the cot positioned on the other side of the stage. She looked at Aris with concern.

"What is it, Doctor?" she asked. "Is there something wrong with Simon?"

"Did he black out again?" Chuck asked.

"Nothing to... worry over," Aris pondered. He was still looking at Thomas, and Thomas fought not to shrink back under his gaze tonight. The sexual tension was un-fucking-believable.

The trick with Thomas's character is that he wasn't blacking out at all. He was just saying that to his psychiatrist - to Aris - so that he could get away with murder for a little while longer. Simon knew that it wouldn't matter, that he would be caught in the end. But if he had turned himself in, it would have made for a very boring play.

"Then shouldn't you be on your way, Doc?" Thomas insisted, glaring.

Aris finally looked up, his eyes finding Brenda and Chuck. He was taller than Thomas by several inches, thin and lanky. Slightly attractive. Only slightly. Thomas swallowed as his eyes scanned Aris's very well-fitted costume.

"Abigail, Teddy... Couldn't you two give us a moment? Maybe check out the color swatches on the wall in the next room, tell me what you think?" Aris suggested to Brenda. The thing about his character was that he was always so maddeningly calm. That is, until Simon pulls a gun on the three of them in the second act.

Brenda nodded, shooed Chuck into the "other room" which was actually just a platform between two sections of audience members. This left Aris and Thomas to do their scene. The scene. Thomas fucked up again, glanced at Newt. He had to stop doing that, or he would break character. Besides, it was fucking up the experience for Newt.

"I'm... more than concerned for you, Simon," Aris said, cocking his head slightly. It was perfect. Thomas couldn't see Newt if he wanted to, now. He could stare at Aris and submerge himself in the scene once more.

"Yeah? Well, you're a goddamn doctor. What the hell do they pay you for if it isn't to get concerned? What sort of a guy can get out of medical school by twenty-six, anyway?" Thomas growled. He put his hands on Aris's hips.

"This has gone beyond professional concern," Aris said lowly. And this was it. He put his right arm around Thomas's waist, brought his left hand up to Thomas's jaw, and they started making out like their life depended on it.

Now, this was supposed to be a big step for Simon, see? Because he was a serial killer, he didn't get attached to people. But his doctor was apparently somehow different, because he understood Simon like no one else. So Thomas had to kiss Aris like Aris was breathing air into his very lungs. Especially because the woman who had written the play, someone Thomas had met several times and honestly did like and respect, was sitting in the audience.

Aris was not a bad kisser at all. His lips were always warm and he always ate strawberries beforehand because he knew that Thomas liked the taste of strawberries. He was gentle and understanding - or his character was, for Simon, anyway - and Thomas always felt like every night the guy was going to get so emotional over the Doc kissing Simon that he was going to start crying during the middle of it.

Aris starts to push the both of them back toward the cot Brenda and Chuck had been sitting on, as Brenda and Chuck say their dialogue in the "other room" that was really just an excuse so that Thomas and Aris could keep making out, Thomas was sure. Thomas pushed his shirt up and off because he was supposed to, and Aris tossed it aside. Thomas willed himself not to think about how this must look to Newt - not that Newt had any reason to care.

Thomas bent himself so that he was lying back onto the couch and Aris enveloped him as they keep making out. On. And on. And on. Then it was time for Thomas to signal to the tech booth to bring the lights down - in the most ridiculous cue he had ever given - by reaching down to grab at his crotch like he was getting a boner there. So he did it.

But Chuck. Fucked. Up.

Chuck backtracked, or skipped forward, or did _something_ , but what it meant was that he and Brenda were still  _talking_. And Thomas was just laying there, making out with Aris, with his hand on his crotch like an asshole.

But then -  _but then_ \- his saving grace and eternal damnation came in the form of Aris Jones's big left hand. It wrapped around Thomas's own hand, like that was something that was scripted, like the  _Doc_ was supposed to be getting Simon off or something. He didn't touch anywhere near Thomas's actual dick, just covered Thomas's hand with his own, which made Thomas feel slightly less violated.

It wasn't even that Thomas was uncomfortable with Aris. Any other night, it wouldn't have phased him at all. But at this particular moment on this  _particular_ night, Thomas could feel Newt's gave on him - on his  _crotch_ \- like Newt was sporting laser goggles. _  
_

Brenda got them back on the right track - thank _God_ for Brenda - and the lights quickly faded. Thomas thanked the holy heavens for their blessing as he hurried offstage, right past Newt.

 

\+ + +

 

Not only was Aris profusely apologizing offstage as Aris, but he was now Doctor Nathan Birtwind, profusely apologizing to Thomas as Simon waved a gun around threateningly at he, Abigail, and Teddy. It wasn't even Doc's fault. He was just trying to get Simon to calm down.

" _No, you don't know anything about me_!" Thomas roared, and he fired off a shot at the ceiling, thanks to a well-placed sound effect. It was probably the best timing they had ever gotten on that.

"I know how you like to make love, Simon. Slow and sweet. That's what it was like with us, do you remember?" Aris pleaded. For the  _third fucking time_ Thomas glanced over at Newt. He was blushing like a maniac in his seat. Thomas forced himself to focus. "And then I told you that I loved you, and you said-"

That was when Thomas turned and shot Chuck in the chest. He was a good little actor, flinching back against the wood and falling slightly. Brenda screamed.

" _Shut up_!" Thomas screamed. " _Both of you, just shut up!_ " _  
_

Aris didn't say anything. The Doc was stunned for words. The tension in the room was like invisible lightning, charging Thomas. He loved this character, he really did. He loved the entire play. Even that one certain part.

"Simon, you killed-"

"Do you want me to kill you next?" Thomas bellowed, from deep in his throat, like the director asked him to. Two people in the audience slid back in their seats. Thomas felt a flush of pride as he pointed the gun forcefully at Brenda. She shook her head, beautiful fake tears falling from her eyes. Thomas was trying so hard not to let his pride show on his face.

"Simon," Aris said again, a small plea. Thomas rolled his eyes. He started his monologue about everyone he had killed, about all the families he had torn apart. He got up real close to Aris's face, kissed him, and said-

"That was what I was thinking about when we had sex. Not you."

Aris flinched back, crawled backward along the floor like Thomas had slapped him.

"I don't want - I wish you hadn't done all of this, Simon," he said, and then he started crying too. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

Thomas glared at him. "You make me sick," he spat, after a long pause. It wasn't the truth. Simon just hated dealing with his emotions. And if getting his way out also meant hurting the doctor, well then.

Thomas put the gun up underneath his chin, waited for the blackout and the gunshot, and threw himself onto the floor with as loud of a bang as he could muster. The silence was thick enough to cut through for a long minute. Then Thomas, Brenda, Simon, and Chuck all stood and lined up. As the lights came on, they took their bow. They got a standing ovation. Thomas looked at Newt with eyebrows that clearly meant _you got lucky that you're here, Kid._ Newt beamed back at him like a small child who had gotten away with stealing candy.

 

\+ + +

 

Thomas rushed through the process of getting changed back into street clothes and taking all of the purple make up out from under his eyes and the "great job guys we kicked that show's ass"es that were thrown around and  _even more_ apologies from Aris so that he could scoot back out to the lobby and see Newt after the show. A lot of the times, people mingled right afterward. There was a hefty crowd of people waiting around downstairs when Thomas arrived. He got a few pats and a lot of  _good job_ s. Normally, he would stay and talk to them all, but tonight he was on a mission. And, of course, Newt chose to stand at the very back of the long room.

"Bloody spectacular job, Tommy, as usual," Newt said, grinning, as Thomas approached.

"Why the  _hell_ did you - and how did you even find out about-?" Thomas stopped himself. He had only told Minho, and that was because Minho was his roommate. That asshole.

"D'you want to get a drink with me?" Newt blurted.

Thomas froze. A slight wind would have knocked him over. "Wh-what?" he squeaked.

"Well, first off I called Minho to ask if you two wanted a film night but he said you were doing a show so I came here instead and then I saw you with that bloke, and I figured 'if I'm feeling this jealous when it's just pretend, I'm in for a right scary time' so I'm gonna take the bloody terrifying chance and invite you out for a drink with me, because I think you're... I have a huge crush on you, Tommy," Newt said, his face bright red throughout the entirety of his mini-speech. Thomas resembled a guppy.

Another "nice job" and a firm pat on the back jolted Thomas, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He thanked the guy who had said it, then turned back to Newt, who did not look entirely comfortable.

"I'm going to say no  _only_ ," Thomas said quickly, "because I think film night sounds like a fucking beautiful idea. Your place or mine?" He flashed Newt a small smile. Newt's entire face melted into a grin, and his chest heaved a big sigh.

"Mine is closer," he answered.

"Then yours," Thomas agreed.

"By the way, you did a bloody shuck great job. I especially liked the part where you told that shank he makes you sick," Newt praised, as he sent out a text telling Alby to bugger off for the night. Thomas wished that he had known before that in order to get Newt to go out with him, he only had to pull some jealousy strings.

**Author's Note:**

> bc ive been writing a different newtmas but i want to litter my account with these two doofuses and this idea hit me today
> 
> newtscutebooty.tumblr.com


End file.
